


Run the Night

by NewAllegroBeat



Category: VIXX
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 14:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15511899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewAllegroBeat/pseuds/NewAllegroBeat
Summary: The one in which Hakyeon is a fashion writer and Sanghyuk a university student and neither gets any sleep.





	Run the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: Our flats are opposite each other and your kitchen window faces my kitchen so we always see each other making coffee at 3am!AU

Hakyeon woke up with a splitting headache and the world spinning around him, with him, _inside of him_.

 

Ugh…

 

He was never drinking again.

 

Well.

 

He was never drinking _this_ much again.

 

Well.

 

He was never drinking this much again _soon._

 

Soon-ish.

 

He half-opened his eyes and tried to assess whether he was actually existing in the world or he had somehow managed to drink himself into heaven. Or hell. Good god what was up with the heat?

He stumbled out of bed and cracked the window open; he had forgotten to shut the curtains  the night before and now the sunlight was hitting him directly on his aching face (why was his _face_ hurting?) Somehow he managed to zombiewalk towards the living room.

The room was a mess—but that much was to be expected. Plastic cups, beer cans, confetti, balloons, dirty chip and dip plates, his dear friend Taekwoon drooling on the rug next to a very empty and available couch. Nothing extraordinary after a typical Apartment Twenty birthday bash.

It was not every day one turned thirty, after all. 

And then the bell rang.

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

Taekwoon whimpered, stirring. “Wh...a...t?”

He had a point though. Who the hell would ring their doorbell at eight a.m. on a Sunday morning? Groaning all the way, Hakyeon slouched towards the door and pulled it open (when had it become so fucking heavy?) to reveal the most gorgeous (and possibly the tallest) human being he had ever seen—and he lived with Hongbin, so his beauty scale was already disproportionately high.

He was holding a grocery store bag on one hand and a styrofoam cup holder with four steaming paper cups in it on the other and Hakyeon wanted to hug this beautiful wonderful stranger who apparently came bearing heavenly goods.

“Uh… hello?” he said instead, in case the hugging was way too forward.

“You look well-rested” the guy teased. He, much like Hakyeon, looked tired out of his mind—though more than a couple of years younger, so unlike Hakyeon the stranger had that youthful resistance to exhaustion going for him. He had short ash blonde hair with a flattering fringe that complemented his sharp features. He was wearing a crisp light blue shirt and ripped jeans that made him look _amazing._ But his most distinctive feature—besides his insane height—, was his face. His curious eyes, his plush lips, his cheekbones, his nose...

Hakyeon wanted to lick at him.

“Excuse me?” he said instead, in case the licking thing, also, was way too forward.

“Well, yesterday you seemed… uh… A little bit out of… You don’t remember me?”

_Oh please God don’t let me have fucked this beautiful dude and not remember._

And then Hongbin emerged from the hallway, looking fresh as fucking lettuce and gently rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. God, why didn’t he look like an elephant had squished his butt all over his face?

“Oh, good, Sanghyuk’s here!” he said, pushing past Hakyeon to let _Sanghyuk_ in.

They closed the door behind them, Hakyeon still puzzled, Taekwoon still snoring next to the couch. The world was still spinning slightly under Hakyeon’s feet, in case anyone cared.

“So, what you mean is that we’ve met, right?”

Hongbin smirked, guiding Sanghyuk to the kitchen counter. They sat each on a stool, taking one of the coffee cups.“Oh, you’re gonna wanna hear this!”

“Oh, no I won’t I’m sure.” Hakyeon mumbled, already mortified.

 

 _It was the heat of the night_ , _the cheesy electronic music you like blasting out of the speakers, and you had been dancing all night. After half a bottle of vodka and very little food on your system, you decided to open the kitchen window for some much needed fresh air._

_There, with the world tumbling all around you, was he: Sanghyuk, studying for his finals like the great college student we are sure he is, and you, the depraved cougar, whistled at him drunkenly and interrupted his very important endeavors. Luckily, because he is a dreamy angel and our humble street alley is very narrow, he left his studies aside and came to talk to you. What possessed him I have no idea, but there he was, looking at you through his own kitchen window._

 

“Do you have to tell it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a Nicholas Spark novel or something…”

“It’s my story okay?”

Hakyeon groaned.

“Fine.”

_“Hey, having fun?” Sanghyuk called out._

_Between the music and your drunkenness, you barely understood what he was asking you, so you just nodded...like an idiot._

_“_ Hey!”

“Oh, shush, I was there. You looked like an idiot.”

Hakyeon just re-assessed his criteria for bringing people into his life.

 

_Anyways, where was I…? Oh yes, coquettish Hakyeon whistling at innocent Sanghyuk._

_“It’s my birth...day!”_

_“That’s nice.”_

_“Yes! You should come, you totally should!”_

_Sanghyuk laughed softly. “Can’t. I’m studying.”_

_“Soooo late?! You should come to party! You are young, you are haaaandsome... you look like you sssshould party!”_

_This time, Sanghyuk laughed loudly. “Maybe I’ll hold you to it, another time.”_

_“...Okay. I’m Hakyeon!”_

_“Sanghyuk!”_

_“Grea’ name, that’s just… a grea… grea… greatttt name.”_

 

“Did I really say ‘great’ three times, Sanghyuk?” 

The no-longer-stranger nodded silently and Hakyeon whimpered in despair.

 

_“Maybe you ssssshould come over... tomoooorrow, then. For breakfast!”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Buh… uh… be… sssure to brin’ foo’ ‘cause we don… haaaave any now.”_

_So there you two were, making googly eyes at each other, and me, observing from the corner in the hopes of throwing this in your face the day after (great foresight on my part, by the way)..._

 

“And then you threw up in the sink, ran in, and passed out on your bed.”

Hakyeon sighed, ‘mortified’ didn’t cover the level of embarrassment he was feeling anymore. “ _There’s_ something I could’ve lived all my life without knowing.”

Sanghyuk looked a little uncomfortable, but he smiled through it either way. “It’s alright. It’s not like I’ve never done that. When I was in sophomore year, I blacked out a whole weekend.”

“Jeesh, the youth these days.”

They smiled at each other, which was the signal Hongbin needed to stand from his stool and pick up his jacket from the entrance coat rack.

“Sanghyuk brought breakfast, isn’t that nice of him?”

“You’re not staying?”

“I have to check up on Wonshik.

“Why?”

“He forgot to text me he’d arrived but he uploaded a story of his abs talking and he seemed to be in his bathroom, so I assume he made it. Still, better make sure.”

“Aw, you’re a good wife, Binnie.”

“Bite me.”

The door closed and then Hakyeon could do nothing but focus on Sanghyuk. And smile.

“So. Yesterday. What were you studying for?”

“Anatomy.”

There was a dirty joke in there, but Hakyeon had just turned thirty so maybe he should start being a little more mature—maybe. “What do you study? Art?”

“Medicine.”

“Oh, of course… _stupid of me._ ” he whispered, taking the grocery bag and studying its contents. It was healthy people’s breakfast; oranges, bananas, whole-grain sandwiches and some pressed juice crap which was too green for Hakyeon’s hangovered mind.

And so they had breakfast. Sanghyuk ate all four sandwiches and Hakyeon daintily ate some of the fruit (more out of nausea than to preserve any notion of decorum, truth be told). They talked about moving into their apartments (Hakyeon almost six years ago when Hongbin and him had finally managed to make enough money to support themselves, Sanghyuk merely one after he’d decided campus life no longer suited him), complained about the rent, the neighbors, the landlords, and when Taekwoon finally woke up and made his way to the bathroom, they began sharing embarrassing drinking stories—mostly of their friends.

At almost noon, Sanghyuk stood up and walked to the door, Hakyeon right behind him. He thanked Sanghyuk for breakfast, silently apologizing for the hugging and licking thoughts he had earlier. They stared at each other, Hakyeon trying really hard to not find the way Sanghyuk played with the cuff of his shirt too cute. 

“So see you around. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah, I… It was just… Parties, y’know.”

Sanghyuk chuckled and nodded, “See you around.”

“Yeah, or across, really.” Perhaps Sanghyuk laughing at his lame joke was a testament of him liking Hakyeon… Perhaps he was just too polite to point out Hakyeon’s dorkiness.

After closing the door, Hakyeon wondered if he had just been on a date.

...Should he have asked for Sanghyuk’s number?

 

-8-

 

SangHyuk was losing his mind. He was convinced the human brain, even if studies did not show it, was not designed to fit so much knowledge inside. Eyes have not been made to read so fucking much—didn’t he read something like that in one of his textbooks for an anatomy final last semester? He was probably making that up.

He looked at the clock half buried amongst notes, his laptop and two heavy tomes; three a.m. When had it got so late? It was Friday, too—wasn’t something else young people usually did Friday nights other than cram for tests?

Music and laughter cut into the silence of the night and Sanghyuk fought not to roll his eyes. Why did his neighbors have the right to relax and socialize while he was there killing himself? Even his roommates had bailed and gone clubbing. His roommates weren’t first of their class, though, and they didn’t want to become top surgeons or go into the nano medicine research field, for that matter. So they got to bail and go clubbing, Sanghyuk got to stay home Friday nights and cram.

He was so tired though.

He stood up from the kitchen counter where he usually studied, stretched his leg. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot ever but since his architect-in-progress of a roommate always left his models on their technically shared desk, Sanghyuk had been relegated to a stool, tiled floor, and the buzzing of the fridge all night long. He was used to it by now anyways. He walked towards the coffee maker (by far his all-time favorite appliance) and turned it on.

Then he saw him, Hakyeon. The ruckus, but of course, was coming from his apartment. This party looked much more understated than the birthday bash, though. Just five friends gathered around the TV singing karaoke, watching as Hakyeon sung an old trot song. Sanghyuk smiled. He had a lovely voice, although alcohol had clearly impaired his pitch setting ability.

Sanghyuk sighed, focusing his gaze on the coffee maker instead.

They hadn’t talked since that Sunday morning almost two months ago. He would sometimes catch Hakyeon looking out the window towards the general direction of his apartment, but he couldn’t be sure if he was looking for him or just admiring the alley or the stars or whatever. Right from the beginning he had noticed Hakyeon, that beautiful man who was always up late, typing away on his laptop screen. He had found him alluring right away; his rounded but sharp features, his dark and silky skin, his brown slightly curly hair, his full lips, his graceful movements—for months he had been delightful to look at, but also intimidating. And then the night of the birthday, Sanghyuk had dared make the move only because Hakyeon was in such a festive mood and had called out to him first.What the move had been he was much less sure now, two months later. 

It had gone well, or at least he believed so (there _had_ been chemistry, hadn’t it?). And he had thought of following up with a visit the following Sunday, and the Sunday after that, or at least exchanging numbers, perhaps going out for some bubble tea—but he had refrained.

In all honesty, SanHyuk didn’t really have time for dating. College was eating up every single minute of his day, and a boyfriend was for sure the biggest distraction he didn’t need (and yes, he _was_ taking for granted that Hakyeon liked men, but, well… he felt the assumption was justified by the many ABBA karaoke choices).

He poured his coffee on his darkened cup and made the mistake of looking up. Now there was another man singing a girl group song with all his might—his voice was great, too, and he seemed to be giving his all into this private performance of Gfriend’s _Me gustas tú._

Hakyeon was low-key doing the choreo next to his friend, and Sanghyuk noted that, although clearly tipsy, he was _very_ good at hitting those beats. He was also too damn pretty. Why did he have to be so pretty?

Sanghyuk bit his lip. He should have definitely visited that following Sunday.

Damn.

 

-8-

 

Sanghyuk had to be the biggest idiot on earth. The one night he was free to go to bed early instead of studying he had willingly chosen to stay up watching an Ed Wood marathon. It had started at eight, a fine time at which five movies in a row did not seem at all unreasonable nor like it would make him stay up all night. He was such an idiot. Even his roommates had gone to bed after the second one, proclaiming admiration for his superhuman capacity for sleep deprivation.

As the credits of _Glen or Glenda_ rolled in, he walked over to the kitchen to make coffee, only to be confronted by the sorry sight of Hakyeon fuming and trying to get his coffee maker to live up to its name. His cheeks were red and swollen and there were deep dark circles under his eyes; his hair was unkempt and messy, and his clothes unusually wrinkled. Of all the times Sanghyuk had seen him this late, he only recalled once or twice when he had looked _this_ beat—but it seemed worse now that he knew who Hakyeon was, to catch him so completely exhausted.

Giving up, Hakyeon just served himself some tap water—and looked up to find Sanghyuk staring a-little-too-intently. He felt his cheeks go red, but awkwardly waved in a way he hoped was not too stalker-ish, just in case.

Hakyeon waved back, mouthing a half-hearted hello. He was clearly too tired to open the window and socialize, and anyways Sanghyuk knew that if he wanted to socialize he should have visited Hakyeon again, or invited him back, or initiate contact of any kind. Stupid.

Or maybe he was being too hard on himself. Why hadn’t _Hakyeon_ visited _him_ , huh? It wasn’t like he didn’t know where Sanghyuk lived.

Ugh. Perhaps the whole thing was just not meant to be. Too weird anyway—they hadn’t even exchanged numbers, for crying out loud!

Sanghyuk had never felt a bigger idiot as he watched Hakyeon go back to his laptop and didn’t cross the street to help the poor guy make some freaking coffee.

 

-8-

 

Hakyeon cranked up the music and danced out of his bedroom, a soft fluffy yellow towel hanging low on his hips. With a smaller green towel he was drying his hair, and as he felt the light late summer afternoon breeze on his damp skin, he breathed in and out. Living with Binnie was great, but there were certainly perks of having the apartment to himself once in a while. 

He made his way towards the kitchen, singing along. Today he didn’t have to stay up late to finish anything, so he was going to have _tea_ —and fancy Japanese sencha, too! He turned on the electric kettle and moved to open the window, only to find Sanghyuk right in front of him across a tiny little alley that had never felt so narrow.

_Shit._

Sanghyuk looked startled but froze, staring right back at him, mouth hanging open, half-washed plate on one hand and sponge on the other, the water still running.

And then Hakyeon remembered he was half naked. He waved awkwardly, feeling his cheeks heat up, before making _the_ run towards his bedroom.

It was stupid—why should he _care_ about Sanghyuk? He was obviously not interested; he hadn’t drop by or said hi since that Sunday after his birthday, so clearly he didn’t think much of Hakyeon with his clothes on, why should he care about him without them? And so what if Sanghyuk saw him? Hakyeon had never been self-conscious about his body, so it should not matter, really, what Sanghyuk saw or thought or didn’t see or think or whatever. Hakyeon didn’t care.

Well.

He didn’t know why it would matter, just because it was Sanghyuk. But it kinda did.

Just the tiniest bit.

 

-8-

 

It wouldn’t be completely disingenuous to assert that Sanghyuk had perhaps been orienting a regular portion of his persistent focus on the glassed aperture of the construction opposite his own.

_Ahem._

He’d been trying to catch Hakyeon through the window, was the point.

He hadn’t been massively successful, true; for some reason, Hakyeon had been more elusive lately.

Sanghyuk liked to think it was because he was embarrassed, which would indicate a degree of awareness of Sanghyuk as someone somewhat relevant to him. This was a nice thought to have.

He realized he’d been completely misguided when the _real_ reason Hakyeon hadn’t been around much followed Hakyeon from the living room into the kitchen. They said stuff to each other, too low for Sanghyuk to hear, and then right after Hakyeon had turned on the coffee maker, started making out like there was no tomorrow. The dude (totally not hot, not at all, with his ugly symmetric face and his designer-looking suit and his apparently strong body—what had Hakyeon been _thinking_?) pinned Hakyeon to the counter, and when _that_ wasn’t enough, actually lifted him on top of it.

They kissed, kissed, kissed, and God, didn’t they have _lungs,_ didn't they need _air?_ Even in the distance, Sanghyuk could see there was way too much tongue involved, and way too much touching, and—he knew he shouldn’t be watching this, really. But how could he _stop?_ They were _right_ _there,_ and Hakyeon looked so sexy, so hungry, so…

And then they weren’t there anymore.

Or rather, Sanghyuk couldn’t _see_ them anymore. 

He didn’t even know Hongbin and Hakyeon _had_ drapes in their kitchen window.

Sanghyuk had trouble sleeping that night, and he wasn’t sure he could put it on the coffee.

At all.

 

-8-

 

Sanghyuk wasn’t a religious guy, but given the opportunity he would perhaps pray for a night off. For three weeks he’d been going to bed at reasonable times (which was great for his metabolism but terrible for his Hakyeon-fixation), but this week unexpected work had popped up in every one of his classes.

He typed the final line of the summary he’d been working on and closed his laptop. It was time for some much deserved rest. He checked the clock. It was almost three, but not quite. A record of earliness in his book.

He was about to turn around and go to bed when he noticed Hakyeon leaning out the window, breathing in the night air. His hair was a mess, but he looked pensive and, as always, beautiful. How he managed to keep such great skin with so little sleep was a biological mystery. Sanghyuk bit his lip, standing up.

Okay. Okay. It was now or never.

He walked over and opened his window.

“Hey!”

Hakyeon smiled softly, straightening up. “Hey!”

“It’s been a while” Sanghyuk mumbled, and then mentally kicked himself.

“What?”

“It’s been a while!” Hakyeon nodded in ascent. God, he was cute. _Okay Sanghyuk. Be brave. Be brave._ “Hey, you wanna go out with me some time?” he screamed into the night, the eco of the alley carrying his words all over their walls.

Hakyeon looked startled—and why shouldn’t he? Sanghyuk had waited months after their first encounter to take the freaking leap! After what felt like ages but in truth was only half a minute, Hakyeon nodded. It was not the surest of nods, though. Sanghyuk didn’t let that take his nerve away.

“Great, I’ll pick you up Friday next week. Six works?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool!” he was about to close the window, when it occurred to him to add, “Six in the afternoon!”

Hakyeon laughed, a beautiful chuckle that soared into the night.

“I figured!”

 

-8-

 

It only dawned on Hakyeon how young Sanghyuk must be when, instead of a low-key intimate café, Sanghyuk took them to a trendy bubble tea bar. Hakyeon regularly enjoyed the product itself, he just had thought—and he was overdressed for this, too, in his elegant cigarette pants and his silk shirt with a flared collar and what was basically a bow across his neck and right shoulder. He certainly _looked…_ well, more mature (read older) than all these frumpy hipster college kids. The music was loud, the colors were loud, the crowd was loud; it made Hakyeon wonder if he, too, had been this loud when he was a student.

He still smiled and chose easily, though, when Sanghyuk asked, and the two ordered at the bar before Sanghyuk tugged him outside. Apparently youngsters these days weren’t too big on sitting. They walked around for a bit, looking at the equally trendy fashion shops distractedly and exchanging chit-chat, then Sanghyuk led them towards a small park. They walked much more slowly there, and the conversation, too, steered towards more personal depths.

Hakyeon found out, for example, that Sanghyuk had only one sister, which seemed to him strange in the most personal sense, with his two sisters and one brother. Just getting into a normal car would be an issue in his family, so he had always had trouble picturing quiet families who could comfortably fit in a small town car. Sanghyuk laughed good-naturedly when Hakyeon told him that, and Hakyeon felt the pressing need to take his arm (Wasn’t that ridiculous? Did he fancy them in a Jane Ausent novel?) or perhaps his hand (how bold, Cha Hakyeon!). Hechose to sip from his straw instead.

“So what do you do, hyung?”

Hakyeon smiled to himself. It was the first time Sanghyuk had used the honorific. It was clearly meant ironically, but like a hyung indeed Hakyeon felt.

“I’m a fashion writer.”

“Oh, like a blogger?”

“I have a blog, it does well enough, but I work freelance in magazines more. I cover shows, write articles, interview people…basically anything you’d see in Vogue or Marie Claire. I do long distance, too. Lots of pieces for CeCi and Nylon.”

“I see. That’s cool. Though I know nothing of fashion, so…” he laughed, sipping from his own cup and Hakyeon smiled.

“That’s alright, I don’t know where the hell’s my kidney, so we are pretty even” that seemed to make Sanghyuk laugh even harder, which Hakyeon found charming. Sanghyuk was pretty much the honest type… or just young, both at best.

Either way he was definitely young.

He sighed; he just had to know. “Sanghyuk, how old are you?”

“Uh, 22. Why?”

Hakyeon felt the biggest blush of all his life creeping up his neck. Age had never been an issue for him, but now, out with someone so much younger… Gosh, Hongbin would never let him live this down. “I’m… I’m thirty.”

“I know. I saw the balloons from my window on your birthday.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? It’s eight years, after all.”

Hakyeon looked up at Sanghyuk expectantly. It helped a little that he was so tall, but his face was still so boyish, his hair dyed in that messy way of youth, his sweater scruffy and worn probably from high school years, his jeans ripped in the current fashion. Hakyeon knew they had a rapport going; there had been something there from day one, and yet to act on it seemed pointless. What kind of relationship could he have with someone almost a decade younger?

And then it hit him. Sanghyuk hadn’t been alive when the Backstreet Boys started out.

The _horror._

But Sanghyuk didn’t seem fazed.

“Well, no? I mean. We like each other, right?” Then, realizing he might have crossed some sort of boundary, he amended, “I mean, _I_ like you. I had sort of a no-dating policy, really, before… before we met. But, uh, I… I just wanted to go out with you. Because. I. I like you.You’re cute. And smart. And funny. And… I like you. All I’m saying.”

It was the most flustered he had ever seen Sanghyuk. It was oddly endearing. But Hakyeon still felt like there was something slightly off, about them getting together. (Was that what they were _doing_ , getting together?) Ugh, all this second guessing. Had all his past relationships started like this? He had a feeling not.

They turned a corner in the direction the main pond and discarded their empty cups. A few more steps in silence and Hakyeon spoke again.

“Did I tell you I was engaged two years ago?”

Sanghyuk took a couple of beats to answer. “No. What happened?”

“It just wasn’t right. For either of us. Just as well, my parents didn’t want to fly all the way from Korea to watch their son get married to a man, so.” He shrugged, “what I mean is, have you ever even _thought_ about marriage? Or settling down?”

Sanghyuk groaned. 

“Why are you hung up on the age difference thing? I told you, I don’t mind. Why do _you_ so much?”

“I don’t know, it’s just… Unusual.”

Sanghyuk stopped to look at Hakyeon with a raised eyebrow. “Unusual.”

Hakyeon blushed even more. It did feel more ridiculous when Sanghyuk said it like that.

“And that matters?” he grabbed Hakyeon’s arm lightly, a light reassuring contact but Hakyeon’s stupid heart still started beating a bit faster. “Look Hakyeon,” and he pointedly let go of the ironic hyung, now. “I like you, okay? I think I’ve said it way too much, but, there it is. I don’t care about the age thing, but if you do, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’d like to date you, and maybe in the long run it will matter, I hope not, but it might. But we’ll never know if we go home and never talk to each other again, right? So why worry about it now? It will either work out or not, and we’ll only find out as we go along, no?”

It was a pragmatic and mature view of the whole issue, and Hakyeon was pleasantly surprised—also a little appalled he hadn’t seen it like that from the beginning.

“I…” he stepped in, and suddenly he was in Sanghyuk’s arms, so close their noses were almost touching.

Hakyeon’s eyes were opened wide, blinking away the surprise. Sanghyuk _was_ as strong as he looked. Hakyeon’s feet were still touching the ground, but the possibility of being lifted feltvery real anyway and Hakyeon shivered. The gesture was boyish in itself, so spontaneous and honest and passionate, it took the courage of someone Sanghyuk’s age to profess feelings so selflessly and openly like this—and Hakyeon kind of adored it.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” They smiled and looked into each other’s eyes (it was a disgustingly soppy affair, in the best of ways), and then Sanghyuk kissed him. And Hakyeonclosed his eyes and let him. 

It was one hell of a kiss. 

 

-8-

 

Hakyeon didn’t need to be up this late. For once, all his assignments were finished and he had been coffee-free since the very reasonable hour of four o’clock in the afternoon. But Sanghyuk was studying over in his apartment (whenever Hakyeon went to the kitchen with anypoor excuse from thirst to late-night fake cleaning needs he could see him at it on his own kitchen), and occasionally he would send Hakyeon cutesy audio messages complaining about or updating him on his studying and Hakyeon didn’t want to go to sleep and leave him alone.

Well. If texting could be considered “not being alone”. Which, to them, it had to. 

They had been doing a lot of that lately. After their first three successful outings, where Hakyeon had began to feel more at ease with the notion of dating someone younger (and grown accustomed Hongbin calling him cougar every chance he got), they had been trying to find time for fourth one, with no success.

Unless of course you counted as dates those frantic late nights in front of books or laptops where they waved hands at each other, yelled a quick _hello, handsome,_ and then went back to their business. They didn’t.

Hakyeon bit his lip. He probably shouldn’t bother Sanghyuk, with him being so busy and whatnot, but he somehow got the feeling a distraction would be welcome at this point.

Without giving himself too much time to think it over, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed Sanghyuk’s number. He watched, amused, as Sanghyuk first frowned at the offending device as it chirped at him, but then he saw the name on the screen and broke into the biggest grin ever. That he was able to make Sanghyuk look that happy did weird things to Hakyeon’s own face. And stomach. And legs. And heart.

“Hey, how’s college life treating you?” Hakyeon said into the phone, waving over, and hoped all of it counted as flirting. Sanghyuk stood from the kitchen counter and walked to the window, doing that weird finger heart thing that had somehow become a trend. He then proceded to run a hand through his hair and look painfully handsome.

Ugh, Hakyeon was so besotted.

“You know how. Like crap.”

“Hey, language. Young boys shouldn’t curse.”

He could, faintly, see Sanghyuk’s eye-roll from here. He bit back a laugh.

This felt normal, as it should. They had done it a lot, call each other at three a.m. on coffee breaks to chat and encourage each other. It was a nice thing to do.

This night was different, though. Perhaps that both seemed to be aware of it was a good sign.

Hakyeon took a deep breath and let the words out, not letting him overthink it, “Hey, do you wanna come over? Hongbin stayed over a friend’s. So. Well.”

Sanghyuk almost dropped his cellphone into the sink and tripped over the kitchen counter on his way to the door.

 

-8-

 

_three months later;_

 

Hongbin was in a pretty sour mood, having to wake up at ass o’clock to take pictures of a diva who couldn’t reschedule the shoot to suit the rest of the team. No, it had to be at five a.m. “ _the time I’m at my most beautiful, darling”._ Barf. 

And so here he was, three fucking ei em, Lee Hongbin waking up to go to work. He nearly crawled towards the living room, only to find the disgusting sight of his roommate in Sanghyuk’s octopus arms, being snuggled like a fucking teddy bear. It was definitely too early for this shit.

“Hey, I said five minutes… it’s been ten! You need to study, Hyuk, c’mon…” he was promptly silenced by the giant Hongbin now almost regretted inviting into his apartment all those months ago kissing him. And then Hongbin was watching the two make out in a chair that definitely did _not_ look sturdy enough to hold them both.

Augh, and Hakyeon was wearing Sanghyuk’s shirt and nothing else. That was definitely more leg than Hongbin wanted to see from his best friend, even if he did have nice legs.

He coughed, as loudly and conspicuously as he possibly could, but the lovebirds merely averted their eyes (not their mouths) from each other to kind-of-sort-of eye at Hongbin. Finally, Hakyeon pulled away—just the half inch so as to technically not be kissing his boyfriend anymore. 

“Sorry. I have to turn in an article tomorrow, Hyukkie an essay, we were… worried, so we decided to work until we’re done.”

“Yeah, we couldn’t sleep, hyung” and if that little mischievous smile didn’t say it all. Hongbin pretended not to see. He just padded over to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. He reached for the bag, only to realize it now lay in the trashcan… empty. He grit his teeth, eyes acquiring a murderous glint.

He turned around, to the table where _finally_ Hakyeon and Sanghyuk had stopped sucking face and were now innocently sitting each on their own chair, typing on their laptops dutifully. Except. Hongbin narrowed his eyes. Except their lips were kiss-swollen, their cheeks rosy, their feet playing footsies under the table. Gross. “It’s all that coffee you keep drinking, I’m telling ya’, you should quit! That way someone _else_ might get some coffee for a change. Just a thought.”

“It’s alright, you can have mine, I’m almost done with my thing anyway, Bin” Hakyeon said, smiling benevolently. He was being nice and reasonable and Hongbin, in all this crankiness, despised him for it. He also wanted to hug the breath out of him.

He just stomped over the table and grabbed his cup instead.

“Damn right I can!” he gulped down half the contents (Hakyeon liked his coffee blessedly dark and just the right amount of sweet), and then looked at them some more. They both looked, well, tired, yes (those bags under their eyes were beginning to star in Hongbin’s nightmares), but they looked active, coherent, fucking _awake._ “I don’t know how you do it, guys. You’re up late almost every night and don’t kill anyone, I wake up early _once_ and feel like going on a rampage.” He sighed, thanked Hakyeon and went to put on his shoes near the door.

Sanghyuk and Hakyeon looked at each other across the table and laughed, exhausted and stressed and delighted and so immeasurably happy.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoyed it as well :)


End file.
